The Trunk Chronicles
by Barrel of Monkeys
Summary: Harry is tired of the wizarding world and how they treat him after the war. Fans and reporters are best dealt with at a distance, so Harry is going to do that. With his trusty trunk he is going on Holiday to see the world, and they better not follow!
1. Prison

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter, I am not making money from this, and all that jazz.

**Warnings**: Gen fic, AU, language, coming of age fic (kinda maybe we'll see) Possible misrepresentation of foreign countries, future smut, future slash (maybe kinda we'll see), **No Pairings**. OC's, OOC-ness (a little)

**Summary**: Harry is tired of the wizarding world and how they treat him after the war. Fans and reporters are best dealt with at a distance, so Harry is going to do that. With his trusty trunk he is going on Holiday, and they better not follow! Harry will travel to different countries and finally get to see the world, meeting new people, seeing amazing new places, and most of all, healing.

**The Trunk Chronicles**

**Peace Out, B******!**

After his defeat of the Dark Lord, Harry experienced one of the few drawbacks of being a hero: Fans. They were everywhere! They were at the Ministry when the Minister asked for his company, they were outside his home, in Diagon Alley when he was shopping, and once when Harry went to a muggle grocer they had crowded the muggle shop and the poor flustered owner didn't know what to do. Did he assume Harry was celebrity and ask security to protect him, or ask Harry to leave and allow his business to return to normal?

Harry tried putting up with it at the start, but they slowly grated on his nerves until one day he snapped and ran out of his house brandishing a sweeping broom, flailing it around and screaming for them to leave. His exact his words had been 'Be gone you heathens! Be gone you foul parasites of magic!' In his defense it had been four in the morning and the group of fans and reporters had started a bonfire and sing-a-long loudly chanting his accomplishments to the neighbourhood. You don't just take that lying down!

Harry hoped that his small very tiny moment of crazy would scare his fans away and give him some peace, but it wasn't to be. The public's love for him had extended to the point where he could have pole-danced starkers on Big Ben's Hour arm and they would cheer him on. The morning edition of the prophet had boldly announced to the wizarding public **'Harry Potter Reenacts The Final Battle For Admirers'**. The accompanying picture showed his looking downright psychotic with his old broom and his rumpled pajamas and tattered slippers. Harry groaned and then closed his floo, not looking forward to his friends calls and offers to talk.

That was another thing he hated. Everyone from Ron and Hermione, to a Ravenclaw classmate's neighbour's second cousin were asking him if he wanted to talk. They had concluded that after such a large and tiring ordeal that Harry may be suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He didn't even know what that was, so he could hardly argue with Hermione when she announced her most conclusive reasoning behinds Harry's desire to hide away and not get back together with Ginny. Was it really so hard to just accept that he was tired? He fought a life threatening battle against a big mean grey dark loving fighting machine. He felt he was allowed the opportunity to kick back, relax, and not fear for his life for once. If that happened to not include Ginny, then he didn't see the problem.

Sure, he loved Ginny. She was a fierce woman with bravery and loyalty to spare, but when he approached her after the battle she had hugged him too tightly for his abused body, and then chatted his ear off about everything and nothing. It was then that Harry realized that just because they fought for the same banner, he really had nothing in common with the girl. She was still attractive in her battle worn clothes and he still loved her, but… he wasn't feeling it anymore. Their relationship had been short and sweet with clandestine meetings behind tapestries and fueled on the thrill that it was semi-forbidden- her being his best mate's younger sister and all. Add the acceptance from her family, subtract the fear of being dead tomorrow and all Harry was left with was a platonic love. Which apparently meant PTSD.

When Harry looked it up he didn't think he had it. All the '_symptoms'_ were pretty vague in his opinion. When he argued with Hermione about this she stood firm to her _expert_ diagnosis. More frustrating than fighting with a stubborn Hermione was that everyone believed her because it was Hermione saying it and Hermione was the smart one, the cleverest witch of their age and all that. But Harry knew he didn't suffer from PTSD.

Did he have nightmares of the event? Yes, but he also had nightmares about loads of things. Green lights… not the most common but he did have it so it pointed it out.

"When I was little I had nightmares about a shooting green light. Does that mean I had PTSD since I was one?" He challenged Hermione.

"Oh Harry, that doesn't count. All children had nightmares about something, it doesn't mean they suffer stress from closets or the dark under the bed. No what I'm talking about is the nightmares you have from the time you fought Voldemort," Hermione countered.

"Ha!" Harry jumped on the flaw win her argument, "But technically I fought Voldemort that night in Godric's Hallow too. What do you say now?"

"Harry, why must you be so obstinate? You know that's not what I meant at all." Hermione had shook her head and gave him a disappointed look.

The next point was that he was '_numb'_ to the rest of the world. Harry didn't think he was. He just found that without a mad man determined to rip his soul from his body and cut him to pieces, things didn't seem as dramatic as everyone made them out to be. Like for example when Harry told Ginny firmly they weren't getting back together. The girl had cried, Ron had shouted and Hermione had tutted. Harry didn't see why they acted that way since Harry had broken up with Ginny a long while ago and really hadn't thought much about her on their Horcrux hunt. Why was it so hard to believe he had moved on? He wasn't being '_numb'_, they were just being drama queens. Harry tried arguing this but was shot down.

"I can feel things you know. I feel hungry, so I eat and then I feel content. I feel cold, so I put on a sweater and I feel content. I feel the need to piss badly so I go to the loo and feel so infinitely relieved it's wonderful." Harry was firm in the stance that he wasn't numb.

"Harry those as basic feelings and needs. Those don't count. I'm talking about you feeling emotionally numb. You don't laugh like you used to, you don't want to date Ginny again, and I haven't seen you smile once since the battle," Hermione stated.

"Hermione, I don't laugh because everyone is still so somber from the funerals, I don't want to date Ginny because I don't feel that way for her anymore, and I can't smile when you and everyone else you recruited constantly pester me. Who smiles when they are getting pestered? No one!" If anything he will develop PTSD from Hermione and her crusade to prove he wasn't mentally stable.

Next she tried pointing out that he lacked interest in his normal activities but Harry thought it was normal to avoid planning pranks when you would be accused of distancing or avoiding certain situations that could remind him of the event. Then she accused him of having difficulty concentrating which was a load of rubbish in his mind. He could concentrate just fine, the only reason he didn't concentrate was because every time she opened her mouth it was the same speech. Frankly, Harry was tired of it.

Harry didn't think he was the problem, but they were. He was moving on and growing up just fine after the battle, but they seemed stuck in the past and were transferring their fears and insecurities onto him so that they could feel better. Well Harry wasn't going to have it. If he could grow up then so could they, without him to use as a scapegoat.

So one night when Harry was preparing some edible projectiles to throw at the crowd of fans outside his house starting another worship circle, Harry got an idea. Why did he need to stay here and suffer from fans, media, and his nag happy friends? He could leave. He was the bloody hero, he could do what he wanted.

Running up to his room, Harry grabbed his old school trunk and decided that he would travel, he would explore the world with just himself and his old trunk. Together the two of them would create memories, learn new things, and most importantly live life the way Harry wanted. Throwing some clothes and his broom into the trunk, Harry left a note and left.

A few days later when a worried Ron and Hermione had pushed their way into his home, they would only find a note happily saying,

_**I'm going on holiday! Don't follow me.**_

_**Harry**_


	2. Bristol and London

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter, I am not making money from this, and all that jazz.

**Warnings**: Gen fic, AU, language, coming of age fic (kinda maybe we'll see) Possible misrepresentation of foreign countries, future smut, future slash (maybe kinda we'll see), **No Pairings**. OC's, OOC-ness (a little)

**Ahoy!**

_**January 28**__**th**__**.**_

Harry had learned one very important lesson since he decided to flee the country. Planning was all in the details… because those are important. Oh sure it all sounded great in his head, he would take his trunk, leave his house and then go on a wild adventure without nagging friends, but when he put the plan into action, it didn't go well. He grabbed his trunk, he had left his home, and then… he somehow ended up in a seedy motel in Bristol. Prior to ending up in his current establishment, Harry hadn't known that Bristol even had seedy places. But, apparently it had at least one and he managed to find it when he stumbled around the country trying it figure out where to go.

It wasn't all that bad. Sure the bed creaked and the springs dug into his back, the window was caked with dirt, and he didn't think the lock on the door actually locked, but it was all he could afford. It's the little things that get you… like not carrying enough muggle money.

In conclusion, day one of his grand holiday adventure was not good.

He ditched his trunk at the end of the bed, washed up in the dirty washroom, and as he was lying down to sleep, Harry decided that in the morning he would think of a better plan, one with details and goals. He would create a plan where he can avoid any further situations where he might contract an infectious disease simply because he wanted to rest.

With a heavy sigh, Harry closed his eyes and thought '_Tomorrow, tomorrow I will really start my great holiday_.'

_**January 29**__**th**__**.**_

He didn't have the best sleep, but Harry didn't mind since he still had nightmares of Voldemort's return, the deaths, and the killing. He had gotten better though with time; he no longer thrashed in his sleep or screamed himself hoarse. He never got the recommended 8-9 hours of sleep, but he could function just fine with 4 or 5 hours.

Getting washed and dressed, Harry decided that he would take in the sights of Bristol. He didn't know much about it, just that Uncle Vernon once said it was the biggest importer of foreign cars, and in primary he learned about the Bristol Fighter. So while he tried to hash out the details for his travels, he would explore Bristol.

Strolling through the streets, Harry didn't know what to do or where to go. He thought about museums, or art exhibits, maybe even a festival if one was happening… but none of those things appealed to him. He learned that he rather see things head on and in person where they originally come from. Why would he want to go into a building and see some statue or tomb when he can go to those countries of origin and see the environment and culture those artifacts come from? That seemed better than staring at them from behind glass. It was like that boa at the zoo before he found out he was a wizard. The little guy was fascinating to talk to, but he was behind glass. It was much more exciting to talk to and interact with him once the glass was gone and the boa could roam free.

Harry was that snake. He needed to roam, he needed to explore… he needed a plan because he was pretty sure that snake didn't make it past the front gate of the zoo.

Sighing, Harry approached a café and dug into his pocket for some change. If he was going to plan and think things through he was going to need a good cup of tea. Counting the coins he managed to fish out, Harry didn't see what he tripped over until his face met ground and little stars floated around his head.

"I'm so sorry!" An accented voice immediately apologized. Harry blinked a few times before he looked towards his feet to see them tangled up with a large rucksack. "Are you okay?" The voice asked.

Looking up, Harry saw a man, probably late teens early 20's, reaching down towards him with a very sorry looking face.

"I'm so sorry! I should have put my bag under the table, but I didn't and now you're hurt. Are you alright? Can I help you up? How many fingers am I holding up?" The man rambled before holding up two digits.

"Two?" Harry answered. He was pretty sure it was two.

The man sighed in relief before untangling Harry's feet and throwing the rucksack under the nearest table. The stranger then grabbed Harry's hand and hauled him to his feet while still babbling a long litany of apologies. "I'm alright," Harry tried to reassure the stranger. The poor guy sounded more upset about the fall than he did. "Where you from? You don't sound…British?" Harry asked. He was pretty sure that accent didn't originate anywhere in the country, but he couldn't sure.

The stranger gave him a kind smile as he answered, "I'm Canadian actually. Just took a year off from Uni to backpack through Europe. Name's John Duncan."

Ahh… Canadian… that explained all the apologizing. "Harry Potter," he said as he held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you. Are you sure you're alright? I could buy a cup of coffee or something to apologize," John offered.

Harry laughed lightly. "I think you apologized enough actually. How 'bout I just get a drink and we can sit and talk. I admit I don't know much about Canada," Harry offered.

He didn't know where he wanted to go to start but Canada didn't sound too bad. It was an English speaking country, under the monarchy, the people seemed polite enough… maybe a tad too polite, and since he was facing a Canadian he could probably question the guy about where to go and what to see in Canada.

"Sure. You just sit right here and I'll go get you something to drink!" John happily pushed Harry into a chair and then ran into the café before he could respond.

When John returned he was carrying a tray with a tea pot, a cup, some bags of tea, and small containers with milk, cream and sugar. "I didn't know what to get you so I just asked the nice lady behind the counter what a local would drink. She just gave me the pot of hot water and some bags of tea. So you got a choice of Earl Grey, Darjeeling, or English Breakfast."

Harry laughed lightly at the man. "Thanks," he said as he reached up and took the tray so he could prepare tea the way he liked. "Do you want some?"

John shook his head no. "I never really got into tea. I mean there's always going to Timmy's and getting coffee or a hot chocolate, but I never considered myself a tea drinker. I thought it was what old people did." John sat up straight and quickly burst into another round of apologizing. "I mean it's just my Nana drinks it all the time so you know I associate it with her, not that I think you're old, or anything. I'm sorry that came out wrong. I just didn't think it through, and now I offended you. I'm really sorry. There's nothing old or wrong about tea drinking… I'm sorry."

"It's fine, it's fine, no offense taken," Harry tried to reassure the boy. "Really, I wasn't a tea drinker until after I finished school," he admitted. "I mean I used to make it all the time for my aunt and her guests, but I always thought it was an old lady, tea or book club kind of drink. It wasn't until after school that I finally sat down and tried to enjoy the stuff as a proper Brit should."

John smiled in relief. "I wasn't sure… I mean I've been having a rough go of things since I got here and I just hoped I didn't make it worse because I can't censor my mouth."

Harry frowned. "What happened?"

John sighed as he played with a packet of sugar. "Well it hasn't been bad just… tough at times? I mean England is a great place and I'm kinda sad to be going to France the day after tomorrow but when I first got here I was a bit home-sick."

"Homesick?" Harry prompted.

John nodded slowly. "Yeah, I grew up in the same house with my parents and older brother and sister. Went to the same schools as them, did a lot of stuff together. Even when I graduated and started going to university I went to the Uni in my city so I could live at home. I've just always been around family and in the same city… but then I met a girl and well I bet you know how that goes."

Harry frowned. "Not really… I mean I only ever had one girlfriend and she was my best mate's little sister so…" he trailed off. He wasn't sure what John meant about meeting a girl. He grew up in a secular environment and the urban rituals performed by normal muggles when dating were completely foreign to him. Plus, Dudley never had a real girlfriend so he couldn't draw any conclusions from him.

Perking up, John smiled. "It was like one of those teen movie deals. Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, girl shows boy a whole new world, and then he changes and they live happily ever after. Except… we didn't."

"Ahh…" Harry pretended to understand. "What was she like, your ex-girlfriend?"

"She was an adventurer. She always had these big elaborate plans to go to remote places and see the most beautiful things. She wanted to build schools in Africa, and volunteer at children's hospitals in Singapore and Thailand. She wanted to trek through the amazon and make clothes for children in Jamaica. Every time she opened her mouth it was something new and fascinating about the world and how she could help improve it… but then she dumped me for not being exciting enough and not caring enough about the earth and her people…" John explained with a wistful sigh.

Harry felt bad for the poor guy. "So after the break-up you wanted to explore…" He fished.

"Oh yeah. I mean I was pretty broken up about it all. For a boy who only knows London, Ontario I only lived in my safe bubble, but she broke it. But then I knew that I needed to get out, see the world. Maybe not how she wanted to see it, but it would be nice to the see the other London, and experience Big Ben and all that."

John was a good guy. He spoke with such excitement over everything like an eager puppy. Harry hoped to find a kindred soul in the boy. "How did your family react to the break-up?" he asked.

John chuckled a little and put the sugar packet down. "Well… it was interesting. I didn't think they really liked her but my parents were all sympathetic, my brother sat me down though. He said _'John, women were put on this earth to confuse the hell out of you and break your heart. You just need to find one that isn't as merciless as the rest_,' and then my sister… well she was very upset. She threatened to and I quote '_-I'll march down to that bitches place and wreck her!_'" John laughed again. "She's a bit protective of me."

Harry smiled. It sounded like John had a really nice family… one that supported him and didn't nag him half to death. "What about you? What happened after you broke up with your girl-friend? I mean it couldn't have been pretty if she was your friend's sister…" John asked.

Throwing his hands up in exaggeration, he was happy to finally talk about it with someone unbiased. "You won't believe how my friends acted. At first they were all understanding and supportive, wishing me the best and helping me but then… after a awhile they just flipped. Suddenly they were pressuring me to get back together with Ginny, always talking about how much we suit each other. I kept telling them that I didn't feel that way but they just decided I was depressed or something. Can't a guy change his feelings?" Harry ranted. He tweaked the story a bit for the muggle's benefit but all the same emotions were there.

John nodded along as he listened and then took a moment to think before speaking. "Did you give them any reason to think you would get back together with this Ginny?" he asked slowly.

Harry shook his head. "No, I think iw as pretty clear when we broke up that the relationship was over."

"Do you think you could ever get back together?" John asked before quickly explaining his reasons. "It's just maybe your friends see something you don't and are trying to speed up what they think is inevitable."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. I didn't see her for a year and in that time I was so busy thinking about other stuff and I never really spoke about Ginny to Ron and Hermione. Even after we got back it was just kind of… stiff between Ginny and I? I didn't see her the same way. She was just Ron's little sister."

John tapped his fingers on the table. "What was she like before you started dating and what was she like when you were dating?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Well… Ginny had a crush on me since she was very little and I thought her hero-worship died down the further we got in school, but…" he trailed off.

"But?"

Thinking about it now, Harry didn't know if Ginny really did stop her fanatical ways. Sure she got better at talking to him and not blushing as much, but as he thought about it… she really started spending a lot of time around him, Ron, and Hermione leading up to them dating. When he tried to recall the details she was always just there… sitting close to him, taking his side in arguments… and she really shouldn't have. Harry didn't have a good blood family but if he got on with them like the Weasleys, no matter how stupid his brother was being he would still support him because that's what blood did. But Ginny always supported him even when against her own brother. The twins, even though they liked to rag on Ron constantly, still stood by his side because that's what family does.

He knew that there were probably more things to think about and figure out. It wasn't like he just instantly fell in love of Ginny one day, but it also wasn't like he just fell out of love with her in a blink of an eye. The whole relationship had been a mess but if there was one thing Harry knew it was that… he made the best choice in the end. "I think… it was the best decision to break up," Harry answered. "I don't think we were right for each other."

"Then your friends should understand," John answered simply.

Harry chuckled at the straightforward and simplistic way John approached his situation. It was refreshing. Hermione backed everything up with facts and gave long-winded explanations whereas Ron just assumed you knew and talked in small codes. Ron would often say things like "Mum reckons you should wait," and upon Harry's baffled expression and request to know what exactly Ron was talking about, the ginger would sigh and gesture with is hands and say "You know… wait until Gin's done school before your propose," like it was the most obvious conclusion from his previous statement.

"Maybe after my holiday, when we've both had time to think about things they will understand… better." Maybe, because Harry wasn't sure how they would react when this was all over and he finally returned home. He suspected anger… maybe some hitting from Hermione and heavy sighs of disappointment from Ron.

"Holiday? So you're on vacation too?" John asked, latching onto that one word.

"Yup" Harry answered. They were finally getting back on track, onto the path Harry wanted to talk about. "Just started it yesterday. I don't have much of a plan, but you said you were from Canada, so… how's the tourist attractions?"

John grinned widely and grabbed his rucksack. The Canadian didn't waste any time and pulled a notebook from his bag and started jotting down places Harry needed to see. "It's winter so you need to go to Ottawa and skate on the Rideau Canal. It's too bad it's only January, but if you go back in March, Ottawa holds a maple syrup festival that I've heard is amazing. Then there's museums and stuff everywhere in the country. If you go to Alberta, there's the Edmonton Mall which has an amusement park inside! But if you're in Alberta you need to go to the dinosaur provincial park, and then there's the Rocky mountains-" John rambled on.

Harry listened as the excitable boy talked about every province and territory. There was Quebec and how he needed to see Old Quebec city, especially in the summer. Then there was the Maritimes and how amazing all the seafood was there. The Prairies which didn't offer as much but the sky surrounds 180 degrees of your sight line in all directions. He talked about going to Toronto to see the CN Tower and Niagara Falls to see the waterfalls and hear the thunderous clap of the rushing water, but since it was winter, Harry would get to trek the ice bridge.

"Well…" Harry started as he looked down at the list. "I don't know if I can do all of this… some of your suggestions are seasonal, but I will try my best," Harry swore.

John grinned at him before blushing. "I went a bit over board didn't I? I guess it's just that proud Canadian coming through."

Harry was glad he met John. "Well I'm on a very long holiday; I can always visit a country twice."

"Maybe we can meet up again sometime," John offered. " I'm mainly travelling east but if you keep going west I'm sure we can meet up in China or Russia or something. Let's exchange e-mails and see if our routes match up at some point."

Harry scratched his nose in embarrassment. "I don't really… have… an email," He explained. "I'm not just saying that either because I don't to keep in contact," Harry rushed to reassure the Canadian as his face fell, "I really don't have one."

John nodded slowly. "We can make you one?"

He never kept up with the muggle side of life once he went magic, but he knew the basics of email and computers. "You may need to help me," he responded.

Reaching into his bag, John pulled out a laptop and quickly booted it up. The Canadian's fingers flew across the keyboard as he did whatever he did. "Okay, so first name is Harry, last name is Potter… date of birth?" John asked.

"July 31st 1980."

John hummed and then started typing fiercely all over again, "Well it doesn't really matter, no one really puts in their real address or anything, they make up most of it. What do you want your email to be?"

"Uhh…" He was stumped.

"Mine's longjohnlondon at wahoo dot com," John offered.

"Long john London?" Harry felt a smile form.

John blushed slightly but he grinned. "Yeah, I kind of wanted to be a pirate when I was little. Long John Silver was already taken so…"

Harry took a moment to think. He didn't need to be clever like John or anything. The only person he really saw himself writing to was the Canadian, so he should probably keep it simple. "Can I have harrypotter at wahoo or something?"

John taped the keyboard and then frowned. "No, that's taken. You can have 'harrypotter1' or 'harrypotter80'."

He didn't like those. "Does 'hjpotter' work?"

John tapped away again before smiling. "Yup, 'hjpotter' is free."

After that, the two spent some more time talking before splitting up. John needed to return to his hotel to call his family, while Harry was going to pack his things and go to London. Before he went about skipping the country he needed to stop by Gringotts and get the money that would fund his little adventure. He probably should have done that before, but… spur of the moment and all that. He also needed to buy a laptop. He liked the idea of talking to someone else about traveling and while Hermione would have been a good candidate he was trying to escape her.

Meeting John had been a good stroke of luck.

**January 30****th****.**

Harry stretched as he woke up. It was nice to sleep on a comfortable bed… unlike that torture of a slab from the place in Bristol.

Last night Harry used his cloak to sneak into Diagon Alley, avoided any and all fans or reporters, and finally reached the bank where he spent a surprisingly enjoyable time with the goblins. Those little money masters were a little wary of giving him bags of pounds, and an assortment of other muggle currency, but it might have been the fact that he had robbed them before, and not the odd request itself.

After he left the bank, he snuck back into the muggle world and checked into a nice hotel for the night. Gringotts offered a portkey service, but it was closed upon his arrival. The goblins only opened it from 8am to 2pm. After that they referred the wizards to the ministry where it could take up to a day to get a portkey sorted out. Harry decided to just wait. He didn't mind waiting, since he was sure that if anyone at the ministry learned he was leaving the country, it would be plastered across the papers and his friends would hunt him down. The goblins did give him a fake passport though, so he could use muggle means to travel.

Getting out of bed, Harry showered and got dressed. He took his time, savouring the feeling of a nice hot shower that wouldn't be interrupted by concerned friends or screaming mobs. When he was ready, Harry put on pair of sunglasses, shrunk his trunk, and left the building. His first stop was an electronics store. He bought a laptop, got the adjustable charger so he may use it in other countries, and he bought a camera.

He ducked down an alley and put his purchases in his trunk before continuing on. He knew two things for sure about Canada- it had snow and it was cold. His worn and raggedly school cloak and tattered clothes weren't going to cut it. Stopping at a sporting goods shop, Harry told the nearest worker he was going to Canada, and the boy set off. He picked out coats, hats, gloves. He pointed out some good snow boots, talked about the importance of long john's, and advised Harry that to properly layer he needed a layer of cotton, then wool, then his coat. That would keep him the warmest. Picking the ones he liked the best, Harry updated his winter wardrobe and left.

Harry practically skipped into the bank, happy to be going. He walked up to a free counter and with a wide grinned asked to purchase a portkey to Canada. The goblin gave him a sneer and then beckoned another goblin forward. The new goblin was instructed something in gobbledygook and then left. He returned quickly enough and placed a small wooden circle on the desk that had the Gringotts crest burned into it.

"Where in Canada would you like to go?" The Goblin asked him.

"London!" Harry cheered, wanting to see his new friend's hometown. The goblin sent him another sneer but tapped the wooden circle and handed it over. "Tap it with your vault key and we will automatically withdraw the fee from your account. It will activate in two minutes."

Harry did as instructed and thanked the miserable being before turning and leaving. He walked out of the bank, keeping his head down and the portkey clutched in his hand. He wanted by the bank's stairs, not seeing the point in travelling further, but that might have been a mistake. With 10 seconds left, a loud screech echoed down the alley as Hermione stormed towards him.

"Harry James Potter! When I get my hands on you!" She screamed. Harry guessed they found his note. Giving his friend a small wave, Harry popped out of the alley and landed in Canada.

* * *

A/N: Sorry about the wait. Something bad happened at work (a big chunk of a major project got lost) and I have spent the last few weeks buried in my work and stressing, and occasionally crying, to fix everything.


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